Time Bomb
by AzardBrazul
Summary: A foray into Shepard's life as it draws to a close. AU. Shep/Miri
1. Where The Spy Meets The Princess

**Helloooo everybody! Guess who's back! *Hides behind overturned table***

**Heh-Heh. PLEASE! stop throwing things at me! :'C *Pokes head out from behind table***

_**Its been HELL over here :\ Moving to another town and redoing my Tests :C. Its not fun. I'm working on Entropy I PROMISE! Defect is gonna take a bit more time cuz I've got a few ideas and I'm plotting where to go from there ;) don't worry I'll update them soon. Until then Here's something I've already finished. Its only a few chapters long so I'll be updating it regularly ;D**_

_He came like the wind__, like the wind touched everything, and like the wind, was gone - Robert Jordan  
_

Chapter One: Where The Spy Meets The Princess_  
_

* * *

Shepard dragged his feet, slowly limping forward, towards the blinding pillar of light, towards his death, towards the end. Incoherent flashes of memory whirled past his mind's eye, as every step pulled him towards inevitability.

The revelation was Earth-shattering. The reapers were not the bad guys after all. The bad guy had been, all this time, themselves... sentient nature... Human nature. And it was now human nature that was their salvation.

Sacrifice. Selflessness. Compromise. Shepard knew them like old friends. But, there was one thing he did not, no, could not sacrifice. There was, after all an exception to every rule.

Shepard's knees buckled as memories of a bygone age assaulted him. Reality blurred as his senses spiraled into his most precious memories.

* * *

The sun sat in the sky, a giant orb of white fire, pouring light on the meadows that stretched as far as the eye could see. Thin, wavy strands of grass tickled his ankles, as he stood behind a large oak tree, spying on the little girl hosting a tea party for her dolls and stuffed toys. It was a bright day in secluded Glen Nevis, Scotland.

Shepard was twelve.

She noticed him as his head poked out obnoxiously from behind the tree, when he tried to take a look. She smiled, someone was actually looking at her! Her little heart welled up with pride, as she cleared her throat loudly.

Shepard yelped and fell flat on his bum. The little girl convulsed, trying hard, and failing, at holding back her laughter. Finally, a dam breaking somewhere at the incredulous look on Shepard's face, she doubled over, awash in mirth. Tears streaming down her cheeks at the funny, awkward little boy's antics.

Shepard's face burned, not only had he been caught spying, he had proceeded to make a fool of himself. Some spy he was. He hesitated when she offered a hand, still giggling, to pull him up. She was pretty, of that there was no debate. The raven tresses curling down her shoulders framed her ageless looks perfectly. His face burned some more when his unruly brain, thought how it would feel to kiss her. But the warden's words echoed in his baritone Scottish voice somewhat distantly in his foggy mind, "Boys, never ever, trust strangers. There be good, kind ones in them, sure. But what if the one you trust isn't?". Idly he wondered if the girl he'd been spying on for the last half hour was a nice person.

"Well what are you waiting for?"

Shepard started, and the girl giggled again. She had been holding her hand out to him, while he'd been on vacation in lala land. Blushing brightly, Shepard slowly reached out and grabbed her. Her hand felt so dainty. She looked so dainty. But she pulled him up, as if she was lifting a paperclip. His eyes widened. "You're strong!" he blurted out, and his face immediately turned crimson. The little girl blushed and looked away. "I've always been like that"

Shepard looked around, desperately trying to salvage the situation. "So, hosting a tea party, are you?" The girl immediately perked up at that "Can I join?" He asked, failing to feign aloofness.

She smiled at his antics and nodded, and he couldn't help but grin as he followed her to the little table and settled down on an empty seat.

The girl poured him a cup of what seemed like lemonade. When he looked at her questioningly she grinned. "I couldn't find tea. So I used orange juice". They drank in silence observing each other. The silence seemed to stretch on to eternity for Shepard who grimaced and tried to initiate a conversation

"So are you here with your parents? I've never seen anybody in this house before." The girl's face immediately grew sorrowful at the mention of parents, and for a split second Shepard thought whether she was an orphan like him. but then she answered.

"Yes." She sighed "I'm here with father. He actually bought this house, so we could move in from Australia, so you can see me every day, forever!" she smiled and the soured again "But he's at work." She grimaced as she said work, as if it left a bad taste in her mouth. "What about you? Are you from here?"

Shepard was surprised. She had actually asked him a question. "Well, I actually live near town, a short way back. He fell silent, embarrassed.

"What about your parents?" she asked casually as she poured another glass for each of them. "they're dead." she said in a small voice. The girl gasped and dropped the kettle, which fell to the floor with a clatter. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I'm an idiot, blabbing on about things I shouldn't"

Shepard smiled at her. She was endearing, even in her discomfort. "Don't worry about it, I live in the orphanage. It's quite nice there." The girl still looked downcast so Shepard stretched out her hand. "Hey! I haven't introduced myself have I? I'm John Shepard" The girl finally smiled and took his hand. "Pleasure to meet you John, I'm Miranda Solheim" she smiled and added, "but you can call me Miri" in a whisper. "Friends, Miri?" Shepard inquired shaking her hand, "Friends, John." she confirmed.

They fell into silence, the kettle lay forgotten , below the table. "Could, I visit you John? where you live, I mean?"

Shepard smiled. "Only if you let me visit you too!"

They laughed until the sun hung red halfway on the horizon

* * *

**Soooo Whadya think? Drop a review as you pass by. :D**


	2. Where the Spy is HORRIBLE at comforting

_It's not the end of the world, but you can see it from here - Eliza Cassan DEHR_

_Chapter 2: Where the Spy is HORRIBLE at comforting the princess  
_

* * *

Shepard grunted as a bent piece of armor, dug between his broken ribs. He pressed on, stumbling closer and closer towards the end. moisture started forming in the corners of his eyes. he sagged and almost stopped as his left ankle gave into a sprain. He fell to the cool, metallic floor with a thud. His surroundings blurred again as memory overpowered him, his self preservation instincts beating him with them in the vain hope that he would turn around and flee.

* * *

He was holding her to himself as she sobbed uncontrollably into his shoulder. The bed they were sitting on was unkempt, and the sheets were tousled here and there. The room they were in wasn't much better, books, magazines, clothes and various odds and ends were strewn across the dark red floorboards. the only window in the room, which looked out upon the street below, was cracked in the middle, spidery lines spreading from the middle to the corners, as if someone had banged on it too hard.

Shepard was fifteen

The quality of life at the orphanage had gone down significantly, after Mr. Vance -the previous warden- passed away, due to unforeseen consequences. Mr. Sanderson, was appointed the new warden by the powers that rule. A ferrety old codger who siphoned off the orphanage, the trust and even various charities. No wonder life had gone to the dogs here.

"I don't know what he wants from me John!" Miri mumbled into his drenched shirt.

Shepard was concerned, Miri had been, through the course of the last few months, slowly descending into a deep well of depression, and he hadn't the foggiest how to pull her out. The only thing he was good at was joking around. He grunted in frustration, slowly mowing his hand to run it through her hair in what he hoped, was a comforting manner.

"He just, probably has some evil plan to harvest your perfect babies."

Miri slapped him hard on the ribs, he doubled over laughing, he could even feel her giggling into his shoulder. "You're a _horrible_ friend" she mumbled, emphasizing the _horrible_. He reached around her with his free hand and pulled her closer to him. She slowly moved onto his lap and snuggled closer to him, resting her head under the crook of his neck.

"You know you love it." he whispered into her ear. She made a noise halfway between a sigh and a giggle at that.

"What would I do without you John?" She whispered into his collar. Shepard smiled, "Probably go batshit crazy and murder everyone around you?" She punched him in the ribs, and he barked out a laugh. "Not funny, you arse!" she said as she softly nibbled under his jaw.

Shepard tensed. What _the hell_ was this?

"Miri?" he posed questioningly.

She pulled away at that and slowly looked at him. She was breathtaking, even with ruffled hair, puffy red eyes and tear tracks. Clasping his face in her hand she whispered, "You're the only good thing I have in the whole universe, John." She ran a hand through his scruffy mullet. Bringing her face tantalizingly close to his she whispered, "I want- no, Need this John. I need _you_." As he pulled her towards him their lips met for the first time.

* * *

**So Whattya thunk? Leave me a reply ;)**


	3. In Which The Monster is Born

"He who fights monsters _should see to it that he himself does not become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you"_

— **Friedrich Nietzsche,** _Beyond Good and Evil_

Chapter 3 - In Which The Monster is Born

* * *

Was that gunfire? Here? On the Citadel?

Was he hallucinating too now?

Shaking himself, Shepard pulled himself up and limped onwards, memory still passing in front of him.

* * *

Shepard was standing in the bushes, just feet out of the Solheim estate borders. Beside him, his best friend, Niket sneezed. Shepard ribbed and shushed him, staring at a brightly lit manor standing over a lake that twinkled in the silvery moonlight. Niket scowled and rubbed his side, glaring at Shepard. "Not so hard Johnny!" he mumbled. "Shush" Shepard hissed as he froze. Gunfire rang out from the manor, a window blowing out in silver sprinkles. Shepard tensed, Miri and Oriana were still inside!

Shepard was eighteen.

He could hear shouting, and somewhere in the night, an infant was screaming. Shepard made to break cover but Niket pulled him back. "Are you _trying_ to get us killed? Miri can handle herself. She'll get out!" Shepard briefly considered snapping his arm and running to help Miri, but Niket had a point, this damsel didn't need rescuing, he would surely get in the way with his inexperience in combat. "I wish you would stop being the voice of reason, Niket." He growled, Niket merely shrugged, then stiffened staring out at the manor.

Miranda was running down the pathway with a cloth bundle tightly wrapped with her arms. She was pursued by at least half a dozen armed men. They were shooting willy nilly, Miri was sliding, skipping and dodging bullets at what seemed like the last possible moments. As she got closer to the border, Shepard and Niket clicked off the safeties of the pistols Niket had got them. As soon as she cleared the border, they popped out of cover, aiming at her pursuers. And the world seemed to grind to a creaking halt.

Shepard squinted and pulled the trigger. The man in the middle crumpled, his head snapping back at the oddest moment. As he pulled it again and again, a void seemed to creep up inside of him. Miri was going away. Forever. He would probably never see her again.

All. Because. Of. These. Bastards.

Roaring into the moon, Shepard threw his hissing gun aside and charged at the only guard left standing. The man was staring at Shepard, an almost comical look of horror plastered on his face. Shepard seemed cocooned in a blazing blue fire, as he jumped into the air, bringing his fist to the man's face, the only coherent thought that seemed to run through his mind was, "Kill" The man, snapped backwards landing in a twitching mess on the floor.

Shepard fell to the ground crouched and leaped onto the next , roaring, in pain, heartbreak and disgust at the animal he had become. The glow intensified, even his eyes seemed to blaze cerulean. He wanted to die. So he killed instead.

Within moments the whole squad posted for the night shift lay at his feet... well, what was left of them at least.

He was feeling the sting, right now, if he did whatever he was doing, for a few more minutes, he would get his wish. He roared again as he felt his skin start peeling off. He was disjointedly aware of his feet leaving the ground.

Words. He could hear words, pattering on him, like raindrops on a thin pane of glass. He could not understand them. A voice seemed to cry out louder than the deafening roar in his ears. It sounded familiar.

"John!"

Abrupt as it had come, the fire disappeared. he fell to the grass, crumpling, face down like a ragdoll and wheezing as if he had run a mile.

Hands were upon him, turning him, touching him, tracing the side of his face that had been peeled off. he could hear words, "John. Idiot. killed. love. me" but he seemed to have forgotten what they meant, almost as if that part of his mind had been walled off. He could only stare at the woman crouching over him. She was stunning, even when she looked scared. Without hearing what she was shouting, and without even caring, he pulled himself up and embraced her, a dam breaking free. " I love you." He whispered over and over again, into her hair. "I don't want you to go!"

All the while she looked at him with tears in her eyes.

That was the last John Shepard saw of Miranda Solheim.


	4. Where the Monster is lonely

_Thou call'dst me dog before thou hadst a cause;  
But, since I am a dog, beware my fangs._

—**Shylock, **The Merchant of Venice

Chapter 4 Where the Monster is lonely

* * *

Keening noses filled his ears as he staggered onto his knees, something was pulling him back, something was not letting him go. Something would not let him die. Breathing heavily, exhaling wispy white vapor, Shepard gave into memory again.

* * *

Shepard stared out of the observation deck window, on the Normandy SR-1.

He had just destroyed Sovereign, and was heading to his new objective. Vakarian, Tsoni and Alenko were ordered to meet him in two hours, at the CIC. Then he would be Commander Shepard, butcher, Spectre, Savior of the citadel, all around bastard.

But he needed to be just John, for now.

Shepard was 27

The stars glinted like diamonds against the inky black of space. He missed Miri. Very much. She loved diamonds, and she would know what he should do, how he could pressure the council into seeing things his way. She was a natural at those kinds of things. Shepard sighed. He had never heard back from her, since that day he had begged her not to leave him, nineteen years ago. Not a peep. Yet he still hoped. After all, were we still human, if we did not hope?

He sighed again, she could be dead, for all he knew.

With a roar he smashed his fists onto the hardened plastic pane. _"NO!"_. It did not give. Not even when his arms burned blue, filling his nose with the acrid smell of ozone.

He knew what the crew called him, behind his back. Mechanical. Emotionless. Ruthless. Inhuman. Demented. Insane.

With a grunt he banged his head on the glossy pane, nothing happened.

All the crew, excepting maybe Vakarian, Zorah and T'Soni.

Vakarian seemed to think of him as a role model, a older brother he never had. T'Soni and Zorah made a point to fawn over him, whenever they could pry themselves from their work. They really were the only true friends he had on the ship. Maybe Wrex too, but the red fringed Krogan had left for Tuchanka, raving about the glory of the Krogan under his leadership, the moment the parties had ended. However much he hated admitting it, he missed the lovable brute.

Everyone else on the ship with even a hint of rank and power, Alenko, Adams, Pressley seemed, indifferent at best, outright hostile at worst. But as always, an intent look was all it cost Shepard to put them in place.

He was, after all, generally considered to be a ruthless bastard. It was public opinion, after Torfan, where he had lined up the surviving Batarians and shot them, one by one, in the head, while the others watched... On air.

he had been 20 then.

He grunted into the plastic. He liked it. It was a good reputation, for his line of work.

God! He missed Miri.

A groaning explosion, threw him into the glass pane again as The Normandy lurched. Hearing the hiss of canon fire, he bolted upright. The Normandy was under fire!


End file.
